Saturday, April 26, 2008
"I've longed to discover something as true as this is...so with one thousand sweet kisses..."
RENT I'll Cover You
I feel like I've a million things to say but I can never find the words to say them. I've never been one for clarity. Or staying on task. *looks guiltily over at to do list.*
The idea of miscommunication has been lingering at the back of my mind for a while now. I guess we lie to protect ourselves. Or sometimes we don't know how to respond, trying to give the right answer instead of how we actually feel. And that's easy to do. So concerned are we with our perception that we wind up blocking ourselves off from our emotions, and ultimately, from the people we care about. We're constantly told that communication is key, and for the most part, that holds true, because if you can't be honest with someone, you can never commit yourself to someone. And I'm slowly discovering that. It's easier to hate than to love, but the latter is ultimately more fulfilling.
I suppose it's decision time really. Either to continue things the way they are, watching them constantly fall apart, or to take initiative in the silence. What's that cliché line that the Body Shop uses? Be the change you want to see.
I never realised how closed off I was, or am, I'm not really sure, until recently. I was taking a shower and suddenly all was clear. I complain about not being able to talk or whatever when I'm prolonging the silence. I whine about every mistake, every flaw, when I'm not even making how I feel clear.
From now on, I'm making a commitment. Because what we have, what we could have, deserves that.
The idea of miscommunication has been lingering at the back of my mind for a while now. I guess we lie to protect ourselves. Or sometimes we don't know how to respond, trying to give the right answer instead of how we actually feel. And that's easy to do. So concerned are we with our perception that we wind up blocking ourselves off from our emotions, and ultimately, from the people we care about. We're constantly told that communication is key, and for the most part, that holds true, because if you can't be honest with someone, you can never commit yourself to someone. And I'm slowly discovering that. It's easier to hate than to love, but the latter is ultimately more fulfilling.
I suppose it's decision time really. Either to continue things the way they are, watching them constantly fall apart, or to take initiative in the silence. What's that cliché line that the Body Shop uses? Be the change you want to see.
I never realised how closed off I was, or am, I'm not really sure, until recently. I was taking a shower and suddenly all was clear. I complain about not being able to talk or whatever when I'm prolonging the silence. I whine about every mistake, every flaw, when I'm not even making how I feel clear.
From now on, I'm making a commitment. Because what we have, what we could have, deserves that.
I can't read your mind, in case it wasn't obvious
From my constant stream of "What's going on
In that head of yours?" I want to know, I really do,
Even though I can't admit that, can't express that,
Just like I can't tell you anything else, how the sound
Of your fingers against your keyboard annoys me when
I'm on the other end of the line, and how I always seem to find out
How much you enjoyed yourself, how excited you are to see me
From other girls. Yet I can see your reasoning - I never seem to care
Especially when I can't even sustain a conversation with you, and I
Second guess my every response, ponder every word I say, trying to
Find the right answer instead of just saying what I think. I'm not an
Open book, and I can't freely say how I feel, the way you're on my mind
All the time, how every thought, every discussion has an uncanny knack
For coming back to you. How I check my phone every break just to see
If you've texted, and if you haven't, I just stare at my background, that photo
Of us, my favourite - us together, smiling, arms around one another. I have
Every photo of you on my iPod, and whenever I'm upset, or I miss you, I scroll
Through them, falling more in love with your smile every time. Yet you have
No idea how much I care, and it's the same for me - only recently have I
Discovered how much I mean to you. And somehow, it's mainly by accident - I
Wish you were the one telling me. I wish I could hear your voice saying that
You loved my eyeliner, or I looked gorgeous, or you can't wait to the formal because
You get to see me. I love the fact you talk about me, and how you love running your
Fingers through my hair, but still...I'd love it more it you spoke about me to me. So
That I have the confidence to confess all these things to you, how good it feels to be in
Your arms, or to have you resting on my shoulder, and that cute half-smile thing you do,
And the stupid excuses you use as reasons for me to kiss you, how much I miss lying next
To you and the way your lips feel as they touch my neck. All these things I've never told you,
Though I hope I can learn to, giving up incessant need to be ice cold, because...I want this
To work. I want this to last just as you do. And I've never told you that
But today, maybe I will.
From my constant stream of "What's going on
In that head of yours?" I want to know, I really do,
Even though I can't admit that, can't express that,
Just like I can't tell you anything else, how the sound
Of your fingers against your keyboard annoys me when
I'm on the other end of the line, and how I always seem to find out
How much you enjoyed yourself, how excited you are to see me
From other girls. Yet I can see your reasoning - I never seem to care
Especially when I can't even sustain a conversation with you, and I
Second guess my every response, ponder every word I say, trying to
Find the right answer instead of just saying what I think. I'm not an
Open book, and I can't freely say how I feel, the way you're on my mind
All the time, how every thought, every discussion has an uncanny knack
For coming back to you. How I check my phone every break just to see
If you've texted, and if you haven't, I just stare at my background, that photo
Of us, my favourite - us together, smiling, arms around one another. I have
Every photo of you on my iPod, and whenever I'm upset, or I miss you, I scroll
Through them, falling more in love with your smile every time. Yet you have
No idea how much I care, and it's the same for me - only recently have I
Discovered how much I mean to you. And somehow, it's mainly by accident - I
Wish you were the one telling me. I wish I could hear your voice saying that
You loved my eyeliner, or I looked gorgeous, or you can't wait to the formal because
You get to see me. I love the fact you talk about me, and how you love running your
Fingers through my hair, but still...I'd love it more it you spoke about me to me. So
That I have the confidence to confess all these things to you, how good it feels to be in
Your arms, or to have you resting on my shoulder, and that cute half-smile thing you do,
And the stupid excuses you use as reasons for me to kiss you, how much I miss lying next
To you and the way your lips feel as they touch my neck. All these things I've never told you,
Though I hope I can learn to, giving up incessant need to be ice cold, because...I want this
To work. I want this to last just as you do. And I've never told you that
But today, maybe I will.
Never Told You
Labels: miscommunication, philosophising, poetry, procrastinating, RENT
Friday, April 25, 2008
I have way too many half-written poems in my head.
"I have a haiku poem inside of my
head but the words are written in invisible ink"Darren Hayes, I Just Want
You to Love Me
That pretty much sums it up quite nicely.
Anywho, ANZAC Day weekend. I should be cramming for chem. Because knowing how to draw a molecular structure will definitely come in handy one day. *sigh* Chemistry and I have a very love-hate relationship. And that n = cv formula. Which always appears in my head as n = c/v and means that jess winds up writing up chem pracs five times. And will still probably only get a 2 for conclusion and evaluation. Oh well. We have...six pracs left. Six chances to get a three. Three chances to get two threes. The probability of that isn't too bad. I only have to increase the standard of my work by...fifty percent.
Wow. Really should have done higher math instead of higher chem.
*squee* I love this song!
"If I have understood correctly, velocity is the distance
travelled divided by time. I've read every word ever printed on quantum
physics and now it is time to try."Darren Hayes, How To Build A Time Machine
And people say I'm a nerd. Psht. As if.
But yeah. Time to get back to work. If I want to actually pass chem. And IB in general. Because this pesky little thing I call my EE needs to get done yesterday. *sigh*
I taught myself to hate you
For the fear of loving you
Said once, never again,
Afraid that you'd hurt me
Once more. Unintentional, maybe,
But that doesn't change the past
And all the sleepless nights I spent
Awake underneath my blankets, turning
Relentlessly, as if it was happening over and over
Blown out of proportion in my mind.
I'm scared of committing myself, and it's obvious from
The way I can't be honest, avoid the subject,
I know I'm blocking myself off from you, and I don't want to
I just can't let go. I can't be vulnerable, no matter
How much I trust you. Instead, I build the anger within,
Fanning my hatred for you, taking every little thing you say
That can be taken the wrong way
And use it against you, forgetting the forehead kisses and
Holding hands, the sound of your voice, the moments of perfect intimacy,
How it felt to hear you sing for me and confess that I
Was your favourite audience. No, none of that works for me,
I need you to screw up, so that we can break up,
And I can run away from the best thing that's happened to me
For a long, long time. You're amazing. Wonderful. I treasure
Every minute I'm in contact with you, that I'm thinking of you
- It sickens me to consider giving you up. But the possibility still lingers,
As to wound myself now seems a small price to pay if it means
That I can avoid the heartache of losing you after loving you.
I want to give myself up to you, all my fears, to surrender and hope that
You care enough not to rip me apart, disregard my feelings and lead me on.
But I can't, not alone. Yet...
I promise you that I'll try to relinquish these doubts,
Try to leave my shell and enter this relationship if you help me.
If you guide me and have patience, I'll let myself love you, one day,
Giving up lessons learned in hating you.
Lessons Learned in Hating You
Labels: chemistry, darren hayes, poetry, procrastinating